


Where the Desert Winds May Take Us

by RainIsMyFavouriteColour



Category: Free!
Genre: AU, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Splash Free, Angst, Arabian AU, Characters to be added in order of appearance, Djinni & Genies, Eventual Relationships, F/M, M/M, Magic, OCs in minor roles - Freeform, Romance, Royalty, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Slow To Update, Supernatural Elements, magi, magi AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 22:40:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4117369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainIsMyFavouriteColour/pseuds/RainIsMyFavouriteColour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all starts when someone Rin hasn't seen in a long time comes back to court. Someone he never expected to see again, especially not with the words "I'm here to claim your crown."<br/>After learning of his heritage from his mother after years of asking and becoming master of a djinn, Haru goes back to the place he was once banned from, determined to take what is rightfully his.<br/>Makoto is a wandering water merchant, going wherever he wants and offering a helping hand and gentle smile when needed. He often frequents the kingdom of Samezuka because of their praised oasis, the only steady source of income that keeps it from collapsing completely. It certainly must be a coincidence that he only appears whenever it threatens to run dry.<br/>And Nitori himself is a servant at court, disguised in order to hide from those who want to hurt him. But which other secrets does he keep?<br/>Will be updated with possibly long breaks until I get this and other stories back on track.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea I've been sitting on for probably a full year by now. I do have notes but no clear storyline, there's definitely more than what's in the summary and a sort of end goal in mind...with lots of (as of yet) undefined adventures in between. I'm sorry for posting this when I already have multiple stories that need finishing going on but I know if I don't write it out now I may never and I really do like this idea. Plus, I get to write a sort of arabian au too lol.  
> The first chapter is really just a short introduction to set the stage. I'll post the next bit as next chapter because I feel it doesn't mix well with the intro.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for clicking on this, I hope you enjoy ^^'
> 
> Also, sorry for the poem-y bit. I tried.

Once, there were legends of those called 'Magi', powerful beings not merely possessing or wielding magic - but it being their essence. Because of this, they were rare, so rare that only three ever existed at the same time. Each era brought a new generation which in turn brought on change in the world. Sometimes for better and sometimes for worse, but change nevertheless. Magi were said to choose a king each, a king they thought worthy of leading and founding a nation. Not always did these kings prove themselves worthy or good. Some became tyrants who erected their kingdoms for this sole purpose while others were fair leaders and made their kingdoms prosper.

Along with Magi, djinn were part of the mysterious legends. Immortal creatures of magic, they were said to be so powerful only a Magi could control them. They were called ghosts and spirits by some, angels by others or even demons. They roamed the world freely, wild and doing whatever they pleased until they eventually doomed it to it's end. It was then that the existing Magi at the time bound all their power together and laid a curse upon the djinn.

_Three a wish you shall have to fulfill_

_One for those who you wished ill_

_One for those you wished to displease_

_One for those you wished to appease_

_None of these for your own gain_

_For that's the price paid by those you have slain_

But it was a well-known fact that djinn were tricksters and in order to gain the wish one wanted, the wording had to be right. So this was how the djinn exacted their revenge, granting wishes in the most twisted way possible before they were back to being imprisoned in one of the numerous containers the Magi had banned them into.

Many years later, the djinn were re-located by yet another Magi, still banned and cursed, hidden away from the world - to it's knowledge. At this time, the legends about Magi, djinn and any other kind of magic had long since become the stuff of children's stories, not to be taken seriously. Only the survivors of a few tribes, scattered across the globe, still passed on what they knew about the old legends. As such, only those who actively sought for this knowledge found it and often the search was long and arduous, riddled with many obstacles, lies and truths. Often, these found the djinn and, because of the nature of their new imprisonment, were sometimes able to conquer the tower each djinn inhabited, thus becoming the djinn's master.

And so, the legends sank and disappeared into the vortex of time.

This particular story takes place in a new era, one where the Magi were long forgotten and crowns passed down bloodlines instead of inner worthiness.

The stage is set in an expansive but declining kingdom in the middle of a desert, one with a spoiled prince but a good heart, a lonely wanderer braving the desert's dangers, a water merchant who isn't all he appears to be...and a secret hidden away at the red prince's court. A secret hidden so deeply not even the prince himself knows of it.


	2. Shadow in the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru makes his entrance and Makoto can feel something changing. Rin is confronted with an unfavourable aspect of being royalty and Chigusa confides in Nitori (let the court intrigue commence).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, guys. I had a bit of real life stuff going on and then I kind of got stuck in the middle of writing the chapter. Still not 100% satisfied with it but I did the best I could. I hope you like it.

He holds up his hand to throw a small shadow across his face. The air’s hot and dry. It looks like it's dancing in front of him, dense, swirling veils, ever changing and moving with a non-existent wind.

"Water..."

Squinting, he scans the never-ending hills of sand surrounding him, desperately hoping to find what he craves, needs. Staring into the distance, he can make out tall walls surrounding a city of white, gleaming. A tall, gold-tipped tower glows under the scorching sun, the light reflecting off of it and blinding him temporarily.

He blinks, turning his head away slightly, and narrows his eyes when he thinks he can see what he's looking for. They go wide when he recognises a beautiful oasis, a glittering, deep blue-green gem set inside golden valleys of sand and lush shades of green, dotted with bursts of colour.

He takes a step forward, gaze glued to the oasis. He can already taste the cool sweetness rushing past his lips and touching his tongue, laying inside his mouth like a dry, useless thing. Another step. Sweat is trickling down his back and he can just imagine the silky caresses of the water as he dives in. He loses himself in fantasies as he robotically sets one foot in front of the other, stubbornly pushing forward as he ignores his trembling, his dizziness, the unbearable dryness in his throat.

Makoto hums to himself under his breath, leading his trusty companion on a leash beside him. They walk at an easy pace; they've been along this path often enough to know how long it takes and how not to overexert themselves. Makoto could have made their travel a lot easier, but he likes the actual act of travelling. He likes walking from one place to another, even if there are hardships to overcome. In his mind, all kinds of experiences are worth it and something to be savoured. It is better than the alternative, at any rate.

"How're you holding up?"

Makoto stops, patting the camel on its side with a smile. The animal makes no sound except a small puff of air from its soft nostrils.

 _Fine. Let's get a move on, I'm hungry_.

Makoto laughs, eyeing the empty jugs and water skins piled onto the camel's back.

"Yes, we'll get there soon. Just a quick trip to the oasis first, alright?"

He gets another huff in response but no protest and they proceed, slightly faster than before. A small breeze, cool instead of hot, glides across Makoto's skin and is gone before he knows it. He stops, his companion beside him halting immediately, sensing that something is happening.

"Strange..." Makoto turns his head this way and that, unable to determine what caused the breeze in a desert otherwise filled with hot, still air. "I...can feel a change coming..."

It feels new, different - refreshing. Blue. Good.

_Can we continue?_

That cuts through Makoto's concentration and he ruffles his companion's mane, smiling in light amusement.

"Yes. Something as inevitable as this will happen no matter what anyone does..." He takes another look around but sees nothing but mounds of sand. It’s all they've seen for weeks, if not months. Nothing seems out of the ordinary.

They trek onward, passing more of the same sandy hills, before they stop again.

Haru is surrounded by hot, grainy heat, the sun beating down on his bare back. He's glad for the little protection his turban and shawl offer, but they barely do anything to prevent his skin from burning or the rawness inside his throat. He doesn't know how long he's been lying there for. He just suddenly collapsed, his legs giving out on him as he came closer and closer to water.  _So close..._

He's so thirsty. And tired. He wants to sleep. He closes his eyes in an attempt to ignore the black shadows clouding his vision. Red replaces it, hot and vibrant.

_Just for a little while...just..._

"Oh, what do we have here?"

Haru stirs at the sudden voice and the partial drop of temperature across him. He can’t open his eyes but his sluggish mind pieces it together and dimly alerts him to the presence of another person. He would move, if he could, but his body is limp and no longer under his control.

Makoto drops to his knees, frowning in concern as he touches the man's face. It's hot. Too hot. His eyes move restlessly under closed lids and his lips are slightly parted, dry and cracked. Dark shadows flit around him. Makoto narrows his eyes at them but they don’t disappear. Suddenly there’s another breeze, cool and soothing, which makes the shadows quiver.

He sighs, sending his companion an apologetic glance.

"Guess we'll go for the quick route this time."

***

Rin leans further back into his cushions, bored. He lets his gaze wander to the sliver of brilliant blue sky visible from where he’s sitting, his mind already travelling places more interesting than what he’s supposed to be doing. His father’s advisor watches him with narrowed eyes across the low table, pushing up the delicate frames on his nose as he leans toward the prince slightly. The rich, dark wood separating them is littered with unravelled scrolls, the neat piles they were in when the advisor first brought them long gone.

"No." Rin interrupts the thick silence, voice monotone in its repetition. He idly flicks a speck of invisible dust off of his robes. The only sign of any emotion the advisor shows is a slight tick of his eyebrow.

"But, my lord, these are all very fine choices -" he insists, sweeping one hand across the table, indicating the scrolls. The prince’s reaction isn’t quite as subtle. He frowns deeply, sighing.

"I said, no." he repeats yet again, unable to keep the impatience from his voice this time. He stares at the advisor, the emotion in his eyes turning it into a glare which the other returns less than impressed. Against his will, Rin is surprised and feels a glimmer of respect for him. Not many of the palace staff have withstood his glares before.

_Either he’s courageous or stupid._

"Rin."

Both of them look up at the stern voice. They were both so invested in the stare-off that they didn’t notice the queen come in.

Despite her age, she looks very youthful and has been mistaken for her daughter on more than one occasion. It's no surprise; princess Gou has inherited her mother's beauty and intelligence to the point where it’s a regular occurrence for strangers to mistake them for twins or sisters. The only difference between the two is how each expresses her wrath. Gou is more like her brother and becomes loud, radiating anger. She, unlike Rin however, has learned to reign in strong emotions and has more control over her outbursts, projecting them like a low, simmering burn instead of Rin’s raging storm. It’s un-princess-like to be loud and boisterous after all.

The queen is quiet, but her rage is cold and firm underneath her often calm face.

Right now, Rin's mother sounds calm. Scarily calm.

He shoots up to his feet, the advisor not far behind.

"Yes, your majesty?"

"I thought we discussed this." The queen takes in the numerous papers scattered across the low table and raises a thin eyebrow in disapproval. "You know this is necessary."

"I do." Rin heaves a sigh, looking at the paper scrolls. His lip curls unconsciously at the sight of lines upon lines of fine, calligraphic writing, no doubt describing the numerous qualities of some prim and proper princess and containing a wedding proposal. He turns back to his mother, unable to help the narrowing of his eyes in anger. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Rin, you are a prince. The crown prince and only heir. As such, you do not have the luxury to do what you _like_.” The queen replies coolly, floating over to the table gracefully, the hem of her long gown barely disturbed by movement. She extends a hand and the advisor hurriedly bends back down to give her one of the scrolls on top of the chaos. She nods at him and takes it, eyes scanning the writing. “You are not a child anymore.”

“I know that!” Rin flares up. The queen shoots him an unimpressed look, so much like the advisor’s just now, the prince almost rolls his eyes.

_Of course._

The queen’s eyes glint in warning and he looks down at the ground, a shiver running down his spine as he continues quietly. His fists are clenched at his side. “I’ll still do it. It’s just not – not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair. The sooner you learn that, the better.”

Rin can just suppress a flinch at the hard, unrelenting tone, tensing a little when he feels a deceptively small and delicate hand settle on his shoulder. He looks up, his eyes meeting his mother’s. There’s a small glimmer of sympathy in them. “You are eighteen, Rin. It is time for you to take responsibility.”

“Father isn’t going to die for a long time yet. He’s in perfect health. I don’t see why I have to bind myself to this place or a wife.” Not yet, at least. The prince has dreams he wants to pursue, dreams he can’t follow if he’s chained to the court. He wants to travel the world and see things other than these city walls and the endless desert stretching beyond.

His mother’s hand tightens on Rin’s shoulder and the hardness in her eyes returns. Once again, Rin is looking at the queen not his mother. He sucks in a breath, wondering if he’s gone too far this time. The queen is not a woman to be trifled with and it’s no secret among the royal court that it is her holding the reigns of the kingdom in her hands, not the king.

“I expected more maturity from you. Look at your sister.” Her hand slides off of Rin’s shoulder and Rin’s jaw clenches. His sister. The perfect, little obedient princess. “She’s younger than you and has been engaged for years. Her birthday is a quarter moon away. She will meet her betrothed then for the first time. Do you think she _likes_ this situation?”

The queen pauses as if to give Rin time to answer but he knows it’s just rhetorical. What she’s really saying is, _look at how calmly your sister is handling this. Be a bit more like her_. Rin doesn’t doubt that his mother would hand over the rule of the kingdom to Gou if it was possible. He suddenly wishes it was.

Unaware of the prince’s inner turmoil, the queen exchanges a look with the advisor as she hands him back the scroll. She glances at Rin in passing, a short flicker of emotion lighting up her eyes, but she doesn’t stop until she is at the door. There she pauses, back still turned to him.

“You have half a moon to decide who you wish to take as your bride. Choose wisely.”

She leaves without waiting for an answer, not expecting a response and not being offered one. All that is left inside the chamber is a sense of finality and resignation, like swirling black ink on dry paper surrounded by the empty silence of cracking dreams.

***

It’s stifling outside of the palace walls. Rin’s garments don’t help, as many layers as he’s wrapped in, but he almost doesn’t mind.

The palace has been in utter chaos as everyone prepares for the double event of Gou’s birthday and her official engagement. Festivities would be going on for at least a quarter moon, the birthday and engagement set a few days apart.

It sends the kitchen into overdrive, the officials into a planning frenzy and makes the queen quite short-tempered with her demand for perfection. Halls and corridors are permanently filled with the pitter-patter of constant running around of servants and the extensive gardens are occupied at all times with guests who have already arrived. Not even sparring with the guards or soldiers gives the prince peace of mind as even the training grounds are full of people.

It all drives Rin absolutely insane.

He supposes he should be thankful. It’s only because the palace is so busy that he has been able to make his escape today, at least for a few hours until one of his teachers, or worse his mother or the royal advisor, start looking for him.

Rin blinks away the sweat stinging in his eye, ignoring the way his robe clings to his skin uncomfortably. He peers at the various jars stacked onto the stall in front of him, filled with numerous, colourful spices or thick fluids in various shades of amber.

“Would you like to try some? I carry only the finest spices and honey.” the stall keeper announces his presence, a short and soft man, his round stomach protruding. He grins at Rin from underneath his finely trimmed moustache. Before the prince can answer, he bumps against the stall unexpectedly, a sudden shove from behind being the cause.

“Hey!” he yells, turning around to rub his shoulder and glare at the culprit.

It’s a woman, judging by her clothes, and a poor one at that. There are no holes to be seen anywhere but it’s obvious the cloth has been mended many times. She is covered from head to toe, only a wisp of light hair escaping from underneath her head covering which also hides most of her face. The only visible part of it are her eyes – a startlingly clear, bright blue, like the sky or light sapphires.

It’s strange how he can feel his irritation at the heat, the itchiness of the damp cloth on his skin, fade away. Rin blinks.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to bump into you, it’s so crowded –“ the woman starts to apologise profusely, looking down and attempting a bow, awkward at best since there is very little space. She is promptly crashed into by the never ending stream of people making their way through the market, slow and steady and punctuated by yells and shouts as well as occasional singing. Rin has pulled her to safety beside him before he knows what he did, both of them looking at one another in confusion.

“Thank you.” Ai says a little belatedly, breaking eye contact first. He doesn’t know why he was staring in the first place. Yes, the man’s eye colour is a little unusual but he has the feeling there’s something else there. Like he has seen him before, perhaps.

The man nods, then startles and lets go of Ai, as if he only just noticed he was still holding him by the arm.

Rin watches the woman lean toward the stall keeper as she says something to him in a low voice, barely audible over the hum of conversation around them, the buzzing of lazy flies and rhythmic chirping of insects. He seems to know her, by the way his expression softens into something more honest than the oily smile he graced the prince with.

“Those royals sure love their honey, don’t they.” the stall keeper is saying, stacking several jars of the dark, thick liquid in front of her.

Rin feels shock shooting down his spine. Royals? Has he been discovered?

He readies himself for exclamations of surprise and shouts, one hand unconsciously sliding underneath his robe to rest on the handle of his dagger, but none are forthcoming.

Instead, the woman and stall keeper start haggling for the price, ultimately agreeing on 10 gold pieces. Rin watches the process, eyes widening when he sees her getting out a patched up bag. The contents clink together, the material weighed down by no small amount of gold. How does this woman have the money to afford this when she is dressed in well-worn clothing, too poor to buy new clothes?

Wait. The stall keeper said  _royals_  before. Does this woman have something to do with his family?

“Your prices have gone up.” Ai murmurs, reluctantly pulling shiny coins out of the purse. He quickly hands them over, tucking the rest of the money away safely within his robes. He holds onto it tightly, familiar with the thieves active during market days. It has become more common recently to find oneself either without any possessions all of the sudden or see public punishment of thieves who haven’t been careful enough.

Ai doesn’t want to see it.

He quickly takes the jars of honey, balancing them in a practiced way and turns to leave with a nod at the stall keeper – nearly crashing into the red-eyed man from before once again.

Rin moves aside when the woman makes to leave, but he isn’t quite fast enough. He catches her by her arms before she falls and by some miracle, the many jars she’s holding don’t fall to the ground. She looks up at him, that clear gaze meeting his eyes once again.

She has him tongue-tied and he doesn’t know why. He has been able to say nothing, incapable of leaving, of doing anything but watch. It’s strange and unusual for the prince. He doesn’t even know her, not the way she looks or even her name - and still something is compelling him to stay, as if held in place by an invisible force or a string binding them together. The thought startles Rin, its unbidden appearance making him want to laugh and his stomach clenching tensely at the same time.

“Thank you, sir.” Ai eventually says, pointedly looking at the man’s hands which are still gripping his upper arms. He lets go after blinking, his movement slow.

“Sorry.” he says, his voice lower than his young face suggests. It can’t hide his age completely; there’s something youthful in his tone, something that hints at hidden arrogance.

It’s also strangely familiar and it’s Ai’s turn to blink. The man’s face and voice…where does he know him from?

He wants to ask but doesn’t want to appear rude, so he only ducks his head in acknowledgment and turns to leave.

As soon as she’s out of sight, Rin finds his tongue and mind work again. He looks at the stall keeper sideways who is occupying himself with counting coins.

“Who was that?”

The stall keeper looks up, surprised to still see him there. He flicks his eyes in the direction of the slowly moving crowd, then looks back at the prince. He narrows his eyes.

“Just a loyal customer. Why do you ask?”

“I – no reason.” Rin bites his tongue, cursing himself for his inability to form coherent sentences and the heat he can feel on his face. Why is he blushing? Nothing happened, for heaven’s sake!

The stall keeper smirks and shrugs, resuming his previous activity.

“Her name’s Aoi. She works in the palace kitchen.”

Rin nods and looks back at the crowd. There’s no sign of Aoi though he didn’t expect to discover her there. It’s as if she’s been swallowed up by the mass of people, not a trace of her to be seen.

Blue eyes flash across his vision, bright and clear like the cloudless sky above.

***

Chigusa frowns into the mirror, holding up two different earrings next to her face. She turns her head from side to side, the small fold between her eyebrows deepening. She huffs, then turns around completely to where Ai is currently laying out clothes for her.

"Aoi, I need your help."

He looks up at her petulant tone, smiling lightly in amusement at her pout. Ai lays down the expensive cloth he is holding and stands, coming over. Chigusa holds up the earrings expectantly and he narrows his eyes at them in thought before decisively pointing to the one on the right. She beams and then looks back into the mirror to put on the jewellery.

"Thank you, you’re a lifesaver."

Ai dismisses the thanks with a demure bob of his head and goes back to the clothes he sorted earlier. He can't help but watch in intrigue as his friend begins her makeup routine, his hands already performing the practised motion of folding clothing.

"What's the special occasion? You don't usually dress up this much when the princess calls for you."

"Oh, it's not for the princess." Chigusa absentmindedly replies, concentrating on applying kohl to her eyes. Her lips are parted in concentration, trying to get the dark line drawn just so. She has to look perfect.

Behind her, Ai stops with his task once again.

"It's not?” He blinks in surprise, the robe lowered onto his lap and hands stilling. “Who else is it for?"

Chigusa finishes one eye, scrutinising it in the mirror and deems it acceptable. Her gaze slides sideways as she stares at Aoi’s reflection.

Ai shifts a little uncomfortably under his friend’s feverish gaze but keeps eye contact. There’s something different about her today, a determination which usually isn’t quite this obvious. It feels a little like something is squeezing his chest, taking away space meant to be filled with air.

But maybe, Ai thinks, it was only dormant until now. Maybe there’s a good reason for that look in her eye to appear.

It only makes him more curious.

"Hmm, I'll tell you.” Chigusa finally relents, swivelling around to face him, beaming. Ai breathes out silently, the tension lightening. Suddenly his friend is back to being the girl with the sunny smile again. “But you have to promise me to keep it secret."

Ai is unsettled, the tight feeling returning. There’s a slightly threatening undertone in Chigusa’s voice which he hopes he only imagined. The rest of her face is as open as ever, so he probably did. Ai nods.

“Alright.” Chigusa glances at the door, making Ai do the same out of the reflex. It’s shut tightly but she leans in closer toward him anyway. Her voice drops to a low whisper. “I’m going to marry the prince.”

For several moments, Ai doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink. Then he does, astonished.

“What?”

This is so unexpected that he forgets to use a low tone, hunching his shoulders when Chigusa shushes him with wild hand gestures.

The idea is just…ludicrous. Granted, Chigusa may have a slightly higher rank here at court than Ai does but the possibility of a concubine marrying a prince, the crown prince nonetheless, is nigh impossible. It borders on treason, this kind of talk. On the off-chance that she is taken seriously, that is. And in the more likely case of her being brushed off, she will be made the laughing stock of the palace. Not that that would lower her standing with any nobles, but it might make her life among the staff more difficult.

Just what is she thinking?

Ai’s thought process must show on his face because Chigusa huffs, crossing her arms in front of her defensively.

“Don’t look at me like that. I do have a plan, you know.”

Ai is almost relieved to hear that there indeed  _is_  a plan, but he is mostly worried. What Chigusa wants is dangerous. Life for either of them might not be great but it’s a lot better than what it could be, better than what is the reality for many people living in the kingdom. They can rest easy in the knowledge that they have food, clothes and a roof over their heads.

Life is simple and predictable but at least it’s  _safe_.

Ai doesn’t quite know what to say, if he should protest or encourage her. He opens his mouth to speak, though he doesn’t know the words.

A timid knock interrupts the tense silence between Chigusa and Ai, causing them both to look at the door and then at each other in alarm. Chigusa clears her throat, stare fixed on Ai and conveying a silent message of warning.

“Come in.” she calls out, voice calm despite her nerves. A young servant girl, a child still, pokes her head inside. Her face is streaked with coal and white powder, a faint smell of smoked meat and spices clinging to her. Her dark eyes flit over to Chigusa, her elegant clothes, expensive jewellery and graceful posture. She raises a questioning eyebrow at her, causing the girl to quickly look over at Ai. Her dark complexion makes it impossible to tell if she is blushing.

“A-Aoi, cook needs you in the kitchen.” she rushes, stumbling over a couple of words. She sends another intimidated glance at Chigusa, ducking her head to avoid further eye contact. She tapers off toward the end, the fast stream words becoming quiet until it’s barely more than a mumble.

Ai is already on his feet and at the door by the time she finishes speaking. He looks over at Chigusa apologetically. Everyone has been working more than usual and is tired. He’s been running from one end of the palace to another that he’s growing forgetful with fatigue. The palace has been very busy with the planned celebrations for tonight and preparing for the stay of some important guests.

“I’m sorry, I can’t stay any longer. I’ll see you tonight?”

Chigusa accepts his apology with the wave of a hand, a small and graceful movement.

“Just come see me when you’re done. There’s something I have to talk to you about.” She winks, dispelling Ai’s worries that she will want to discuss her (dangerous) plan further. He sends her a smile and nods. “Off you go, then.”

Ai and the girl quickly hurry toward the kitchen, the loud, commandeering voice of the cook ringing in their ears. Ai feels tired just thinking about all the chores that need doing before the feast officially starts as well as the still continuing tasks afterward.

This is going to be a long week.

***

Haru comes into wakefulness slowly, his body feeling unusually comfortable and languid. The signs of a good, long rest have been missing from his conscious memory for so long, they barely feel familiar anymore.

He blinks at the ceiling overhead. It’s white and rough, curving upward slightly. The surface he’s lying on is thin but soft, something hard, presumably ground, underneath.

Haru recognises nothing. Where is he?

He sits up, blinking once more when he sees he’s indeed inside a room. A very small, lived in room. He lets his gaze wander, taking in the tall ceramic jars in the corner as well as several water skins stacked beside it.

“Ah, you’re awake!”

Makoto smiles at the dark-haired man who only blinks at him in astonishment. He comes toward him, eyes intent as he roams across his silhouette. There’s no sign of dark shadows flickering around him. Instead, they’ve been replaced by golden light, swarming around him like a flock of – Makoto looks a bit more closely – fish. “How are you feeling?”

Haru isn’t sure he likes how intensely this stranger is looking at him. There’s something hidden in those eyes, a darkness that doesn’t quite fit their youthful, innocent colour.

“Who are you?” he asks, ignoring the man’s questions, his voice scratchy from disuse. His throat it dry though it doesn’t come close to how it felt before he passed out. He doesn’t remember much before then. There’s only a vague recollection of a voice and a cool shadow, tucked away inside the cracked lines of dry earth and hot sand. “Did you find me?”

“My name is Makoto. I’m a water merchant.” Makoto answers the man’s first question, his smile still in place. The second question is worded a little strangely though he supposes that is what he has done. “And yes, I was the one who found you. You were nearly dead.”

Haru doesn’t say anything for a moment, trying to remember what happened. There was the oasis. The desert. Shadows. Makoto’s voice…and then nothing.

“I suppose I should thank you.” he slowly answers. It’s not that Haru isn’t grateful. He just hasn’t used his voice in a long time and hasn’t had any need to communicate thanks to anyone in longer than that.

“It’s no trouble.” Makoto replies evenly. He’s still smiling though the intense look in his eyes has lightened. Haru unconsciously relaxes. “Are you thirsty?”

Haru nods, making an affirmative noise though Makoto has already crossed the room and is bent over one of the tall jars, pulling a stopper out of the opening and dipping a small bowl inside. He turns and sits down beside Haru, offering him the bowl. It’s filled with clear water, the bowl dripping wet and shiny. Haru takes it, eyes intently fixed on its contents. As much as he wants to gulp it all down, he forces himself to be careful.

Makoto ignores the man’s suspicious sniff before he starts drinking, cautiously sipping at first and then downing it, panting once he’s done. He wordlessly holds out the empty bowl.

“Do you want more?” Makoto asks, taking it. Their fingers brush, something like invisible lightning stinging Haru's skin. He flinches in surprise but Makoto doesn't bat an eyelid. "What’s your name?”

Again Haru doesn't answer right away. He has learned that names have power and telling the wrong person can have terrible consequences. He has a strange feeling about Makoto – he exudes gentility and openness, giving his own name without much thought, but there’s something about him. Haru can’t tell if this ‘something’ is good or bad, not yet.

Makoto senses the man's internal debate. It's obvious in how he tensed up when he asked his name and the way he narrows his eyes at him now. Makoto suppresses an amused smile. Instead of demanding an answer, he stands and fetches another drink of water.

Haru takes the offered bowl, oddly trusting of this stranger. He doesn’t start drinking right away even though his whole body seems to be straining toward the water. Makoto gives him an encouraging smile, nodding at the bowl.

“If I wanted to harm you in any way, you would be dead by now.” Makoto tells him, covertly watching the multitude of fluttering, tiny golden fish surrounding him. _Interesting_.

“Hn.” Haru nods grudgingly, lifting the bowl to his lips once again and starts drinking in measured swallows. He isn’t in a hurry but he isn’t exactly trusting of Makoto either. His instincts are suspiciously silent regarding him and that alone should theoretically be enough to assure him of his own safety. However, they have proven themselves wrong before. It is better to be too careful than careless and find oneself stabbed by someone considered a friend.

A thought occurs to him and he sets down the still half full bowl, water almost spilling over the edge.

“How long was I unconscious?” he asks, almost dreading the answer. His stomach is empty but that’s a poor indicator of the passage of time. Makoto still has a smile fixed on his face though it’s starting to look a little strained.

“It’s, ah, nothing to worry about. You weren’t in a hurry, were you?” Makoto tries to sound nonchalant, trying to add a laugh but it stays stuck in his throat at how intense this mysterious man’s eyes suddenly look, so dark the deep blue looks nearly black.

“How long?”

Makoto sighs at the urgency in his tone, eyeing the water left in the bowl which is starting to quiver strangely. _I wonder…_

“Nearly a week.”

“A week.” Haru echoes, eyes widening slightly though his monotone voice doesn’t give away his shock. A week. How has he been asleep for that long? “What day is it?”

He knows there is a festival soon. He has set out for his journey to Samezuka, intending to arrive before it occurred. He doesn’t want to draw any more attention to himself than he has to. There is no reason to make more enemies than necessary.

Makoto watches him – he’s nearly sure of it now, he has to be – carefully, almost but not completely, missing the signs of apprehension he exhibits.

“The end of the third quarter moon.” he answers just as carefully, purposefully using a calm tone both to soothe this man’s agitation and hide his own sense of excitement starting to stir. “In the eight moon cycle. The princess’ birthday.”

Haru clenches his jaw in annoyance, directed at himself as much as the circumstances. There is the possibility of waiting until the last quarter moon has passed but the thought is dismissed as quickly as it comes. He isn’t going to wait any longer.

The golden fish suddenly pick up their pace, whirling around the man in response to the impatience Makoto can sense coming from him. He slowly reaches out to him, giving him enough time to pull away if he wishes to do so. He doesn’t, not reacting in the slightest when Makoto’s hand settles on his arm. The fish, however, tell a different story, starting to wind down a little. Makoto’s mouth quirks upward in the corners.

“How about something to eat, hmm? I imagine you must be quite hungry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for possibly poor characterisation, I'm generally quite insecure about how I characterise anyone. This is my first fic for Free! which involves multiple characters and I'm still getting used to how to write their interactions. So, I'm sorry if you caught any OOC-ness, suggestions and corrections are very welcome.


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